


Farewell, Leningrad

by kamidog, Schreiberin



Category: Niels & Gang (Webcomic), Secret Agent Men (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 06:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamidog/pseuds/kamidog, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schreiberin/pseuds/Schreiberin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief glimpse into 250's life before Section M and Agent 300.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farewell, Leningrad

“In the end, 250, none of _this_ will matter. Remember that when this job consumes your soul.” He looks up quickly into 250’s eyes and gives him a brief smile.

The Makarov pistol in his hand goes off and the Agency’s Russian double agent is dead.

“Fuck!” roars 250 as he rushes towards his friend. “Anatoly!”

He activates his head-set. “I need a medical team STAT! My coordinates, GSW to head. Hurry!” He feels Anatoly’s neck for a pulse.

There is none.

A voice comes over the radio. “Stand down, 250,” says Chief, “prepare for extract at 0500. I’ll send coordinates. And...I’m sorry.”

250 wipes at his face. His hand comes back splattered in blood. Quiet, sweet Anatoly’s blood.

“Roger, Chief. 250 out.” The radio goes silent. The only sound left in the room is that of 250’s quiet sobs.

He looks again at Anatoly and takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He rises from the floor and wipes his hands clean on his stealth suit.

Methodically, he packs up his gear and goes about removing any traces of his existence from the place, burning anything he can't carry in the small fireplace.  
Satisfied that he will not be linked to the tiny apartment, or Anatoly, he makes his way to the front door.

Habit forces him to give the apartment a final glance and it’s like a tsunami wave of guilt crashing over him. He quickly returns to the body of his friend, and one-time lover.  
Legs weak, he kneels down, giving the dead man a final kiss on the lips and closes Anatoly’s eyes.

“Do svidaniya, my friend. Do svidaniya”

He steps through the door and back into the embrace of the cold Russian night.


End file.
